(A/N): Hey there! How are all you guys doing? I just thought I'd write up a Valentine's Day fic, you know, since it's coming up. Err, I'm not too fond of the day, to tell you the truth, which might be why the fic seems a little cynical to begin. :P Oh, one thing - this is a three-shot fic. I'll update tomorrow and the day after and then it'll be done. Just because this was kind of long for a one-shot. :P Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think in a review. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Black Paint and Cinnamon Hearts, Chapter 1.

I was sitting on a bench that was bordering the busiest street in Bakuten, watching as car after car whizzed by me. As they zoomed by, they would create gusts of wind that ruffled my chestnut curls, which today were as limp and lifeless as I felt, myself. The artificial breeze left me with a cold sensation, one that chilled me to the bone. But I didn't mind. It was numbing and, in a way, comforting. So I let the cold seep in through the winter jacket I had shrugged on, allowing my mind to wander and my eyes to drift in and out of focus.

I wasn't really sure how long I'd been there, really. I had woken up unusually early today, much to my dismay. I remember squinting and trying to peer at the bright red digital numbers on my alarm clock. I had blinked and rubbed my eyes as I took in the time. Seven-thirty, right on the dot. I let out a groan – or, a croak I guess, since my voice had been hoarse – and pulled the blanket over my head. Trying to slip back into unconsciousness proved to be harder than I thought. No matter how hard I shut my eyes, they wouldn't stay closed. So I peeled back those covers and painfully dragged myself from the safety of my bed. I stopped at my vanity mirror and said the one thing that I thought would get me through the day:

"You are a strong, independent woman."

As the words left my mouth, I realized how lame I was acting. I was talking to my mirror, acting like some sort of crazed self-help maniac. I made a grimace and watched as my reflection did the same. I despised seeing myself like this, all beaten down and feeling crappy, but I knew it was just a phase. A twenty-four hour phase. I sighed at my mirror and then left the comfort of my room.

That was about all I remembered.

Then I was here, perched on the edge of my seat at the heart of the city. I let my mind wander back to my self-help words. I suppose those words did help me a little. At least, I didn't walk as far as I did last year. That was a small victory in itself. Well, whatever. Not like anyone was looking for me anyways.

Ugh. I hated this day more and more each year. When would they decide to just cancel it so that I could get the hell on with my life?

I clamped my eyes shut, thinking that what I didn't see couldn't hurt me. I forced my eyelids down so hard that I could feel the muscles around my eyes start to tire and ache. But I didn't want to open up to the painful world around me. Instead, all I did was lean backwards onto the bench and slide down so that my entire back was on the horizontal part of it. I let my legs stretch out onto the sidewalk and tried to succumb to the darkness.

Let me tell you, it didn't really work.

A few minutes or a few hours later, I couldn't really tell which, I felt a slight pressure on my legs. It was that odd sensation that kind of broke me out of my forced meditation, although I didn't bother opening my eyes to see what it was. I remained where I was as something – a shoe, most likely – got caught on my calves. Someone was stumbling over my extended feet. I guessed that it was one-half of another one of those annoying couples that were roaming the streets this afternoon. I hated their guts. So, at the last second, I deliberately shifted my feet to better accommodate the fall that they were inevitably about to face. As expected, one second later, I heard the satisfying sound of ground connecting with face. This was followed by the muffled sound of an irritated voice.

"Damn it!"

I stopped breathing at the familiar tone to the voice. I flicked my eyes open and scanned the ground near me. There was a crimson and indigo cap laying a little ways away from the bench. Shortly after spotting the hat, my ruby orbs came to rest on my victim, who was sprawled across the width of the sidewalk. Although his face was in the snow, it wasn't hard to tell who he was. If the hat didn't give it away, the red and blue sports jacket did. Not to mention the wild mop of midnight-blue hair atop his head.

I shouldn't have been surprised. He would be the only one dumb enough not to see my feet in the middle of the sidewalk.

But wasn't he supposed to be on a date or something?

I didn't feel like questioning him at the moment. Actually, I didn't feel like doing anything at the moment. I just slid down further in my seat, and tried to pull my head into the neck of my jacket. Maybe if I sat really still, he wouldn't notice me. After all, Tyson Granger had the attention span of a gnat.

"Oh, look. It's a penny," I heard him chime to himself cheerfully, right on cue. Case in point.

I sighed quietly to myself, careful not to disturb him. If he saw me now, he'd ask questions. I hated answering to him. Even though he was dense most of the time, the one thing he always seemed to be right about was me. I don't know how he did it, but he had this amazing knack of reading into my thoughts. I couldn't stand it when he did that – it was my number one pet peeve. He would always be able to anticipate my actions or feelings. It sucked. I mean, a girl needs her privacy.

I kept my eyes on him and saw him snatch what I supposed was the coin off of the ground. He took it within his bare hands and studied the object in his hands as if it were something foreign. Then he brushed it against his jacket briskly. He didn't pocket the change like I thought he would, though. Instead, he got up from the ground and turned around to face me, a lopsided grin on his face.

I was so totally busted.

"A penny for your thoughts, Hil," he smirked, extending the hand with the coin towards me.

"Ha-ha," I rolled my eyes at him. "Very funny."

"I thought so."

"You think everything that comes out of your mouth is funny," I told him, looking at the palm of his hand warily. It was true. He always laughed at his own jokes. Most of them were corny, some of them were dorky. I think less than one percent of his intended jokes were actually funny. I stole a glance at the penny he was offering me, only to realize that it wasn't a penny at all. It was a quarter. "Besides, that's not even a penny."

"Can't you just let me have my moment for once?" Tyson groaned, collapsing on the bench beside me.

Out of force of habit, I rolled my eyes at him again. "What moment are we talking about, exactly?"

"You know, the one almost two seconds ago? The penny—"

"Whatever," I said, swiftly cutting him off before he got too far into his rant. I was too tired to have an argument with him today. All I wanted to do was wallow alone, in peace.

"Wow, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," was all he responded with, which was odd for him, since he usually had some sort of pre-planned fight in his head. But today, he just sat there and looked at me, a grin on his face. Just by his expression, I could tell that he had already figured out why he was here. Damn his sixth-sense ability to read my mind.

"I wish I hadn't gotten up from my bed at all," I moaned, trying to slide farther down the bench. By now, my head was almost on the horizontal part itself. My neck was starting to ache from the odd, twisted position I was in. But I ignored it and continued to sink lower until I was barely on the bench itself.

Tyson watched me do all of this with a bemused expression on his face. "You're really flexible," he replied, a suggestive tone underlying his voice. I shot him a glare but didn't bother to push myself into an upright position. I was used to his perverted thoughts about the opposite sex. Usually, they weren't about me, but once in a while he'd throw one in just to annoy the hell out of me. I have to admit, he was doing a good job.

"You're creepy, you know that?"

"Hey, I'm a teenage guy. Dirty thoughts are a part of my job description."

"What sort of job are we talking about?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"We can talk about that later," he threw me a wink to which, again, I rolled my eyes. He deliberately ignored my response and instead went on to ask me the one question I had been dreading from him. "So, what are you doing out here, anyways?"

"Uh, nothing," I laughed in what I hoped was a casual, happy-go-lucky manner. "Just getting some fresh air…"

He didn't buy it. "You're moping, aren't you?"

Damn it.

"N-no!" I stammered, obviously lying through my teeth. "I was taking a walk, alright?"

"Do you know want to know what I think?" Tyson asked me, paying no attention to my blatant lie.

"No, I sure as hell do not—"

"You're bitter because it's Valentine's Day." He cut me off and finished his thought, smiling proudly at his revelation. I guess it wasn't too hard to point out. It was Valentine's Day and it was easy to see that I was sulking. Anyone who saw me now would have been able to pinpoint it without even having to know me. But having Tyson point it out, of all people, was humiliating.

I scowled, which I guess was enough of an answer for him. His brown eyes lit up like they did when his grandpa called him to get dinner. It was a mixture of joy and pride, with just a tad of exuberance. It was a look I saw often, since I was at his house a lot of the time. But it still hurt to see him thrilled about my state of depression.

"Geeze, you don't have to seem so happy about it."

"Come on, Hil. Valentine's Day isn't so bad," he coaxed, trying to reason with me. It didn't work.

"Are you kidding me? I'm supposed to take the word of a guy with about a million different girls who would beg to go out with a World Champion Beyblader?" I threw him a look of annoyance mixed with incredulity. "And speaking of which, why aren't you out on some sort of magical date?"

He mumbled something under his breath which I didn't catch, but when I asked him about it he looked down at his hands and replied with a short, "Never mind." I found it a little odd that he had decided to dodge my question but I didn't really care much anyways; I was more concerned with my own well-being at the moment. Call it selfish, but he could've had any girl he wanted. It was his own problem that he turned down the chance to spend Valentine's Day with someone special.

"Whatever," I repeated, closing my crimson eyes. "Just…leave me alone, Tyson."

I heard the creaking of the bench underneath me as he got up and the seat was relieved of his weight. Soon after, I heard the shuffling of his feet against the powdery snow. I couldn't bear to open my eyes and so I imagined him walking away as the sounds of his sneakers against the trodden snow slowly died into a soft crunch. When I couldn't hear him anymore, I sucked in a mouthful of the cold winter air. I was a little disappointed that he had left so quickly, but I shouldn't have expected anything less. I told him to leave because a little alone time was what I needed.

Or was it?

With a sinking feeling, I pried my eyes open, only to be met by a startling image.

"Oh god, Tyson! What the hell?"

"You thought you could get rid of me that easily? I'm insulted," His mouth was literally inches from my face, that crooked grin still tugging at the corner of his lips. As he spoke, his breath instantaneously crystallized and hit my face, shaking me awake. He was so close that I could make out the flecks of dark brown embedded within his light brown eyes.

"I…but…I thought…you…footsteps—"

Tyson gave me a strange look as I continued to stare at him dazedly and mumble incoherent sentences. "Deep breaths, Hil,"

It took me several minutes, but my heart stopped racing enough for me to get a grip on the situation. I slowly placed a hand over the left side of my chest and glowered at Tyson, mentally strangling him for the trouble he was causing me. God, it was so confusing when he was around. Half the time I wanted him there, but the other half of the time I couldn't stand him. It was a sort of love-hate relationship. And right now, I was back to feeling intense hate.

"Were you trying to give me a freaking heart attack?"

"So, here's what I'm going to suggest," he began, not addressing my previous comment. This just irritated me even more. I was on the verge of actually strangling him. My hands were just itching to get a hold of him. I felt my eye twitch a little as the anger built up, but the anger was quelled once again as my ears attuned to the sound of his voice, and of three words that he uttered in the same sentence.

"What?"

"I was saying…" Tyson drawled, making sure I caught every word. I threw him another glare. I was obviously paying attention. At least, I was now. "…that you and I are going to go out on a date for Valentine's Day."

So my ears weren't deceiving me. Tyson really said the words "you," "I," and "date" all at once.

What the hell was going on?

It was silent for a moment while I contemplated the thought. He stood there, with his hands stuffed into his pockets, and looked at me expectantly. I half-expected him to tell me that this was all just a prank, that he really didn't mean it, that he wanted to see the look on my face when he asked me. But he said nothing. Eventually, I broke the silence.

"This is a joke, right?" I inquired curiously, still waiting for him to punch me in the arm and say, 'You've been Punk'd!" or 'You're on Candid Camera!'

To my surprise, he looked a little hurt. "No, why?"

"Forgive me for stating the obvious," I replied, "but wouldn't it be weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Well, first of all, we're friends."

"So? Can't two friends go out together…as friends?" he countered. After seeing the annoyed look that danced across my face, he smirked and continued. "Is there a second of all…?"

"Yeah, actually, there is," I took a deep breath, not believing that I was actually going to tell him. But I was the level-headed and rational one out of the two of us; if anyone was fit to be making decisions, it was me. I was still reluctant to say the words that, unfortunately, had to come out of my mouth. So, even though I was desperate, I just ploughed through those tough, tough words. "I don't want a stupid pity-date from you!"

Tyson surprised me again as his face twisted into a somewhat maniacal look. "Oh Hil, this won't be your average Valentine's Day date. No, this will be nothing like it."

I was a little uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me. "Uh, Tyson? What do you have in mind?" I asked uneasily, fidgeting in my seat.

He didn't answer me. Instead, he grinned and grabbed my wrist, dragging me off of the bench. "Come on."

(A/N): I hope you guys liked it so far! Next part will be up tomorrow. Let me know what you think. :)